Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kiribati and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Chris Corsano to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Pantytec,
The Pretty Things,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Selecter,
Max Romeo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mummies,
X-102,
Boz Scaggs,
Al Stewart,
The Blues Magoos,
Lightning Bolt,
Q and Not U,
Tres Demented,
Derrick Morgan,
The Smiths,
Camouflage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lungfish,
Oneida,
L. Decosne,
Severed Heads,
Y Pants,
Circle Jerks,
the Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
Barbara Tucker,
The Birthday Party,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Wake,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cluster,
Tommy Roe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Starr,
Accadde A,
The Cure,
Minor Threat,
Brass Construction,
Aloha Tigers,
Charles Mingus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grandmaster Flash,
Scrapy,
Metal Thangz,
MDC,
Infiniti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Qualms,
Iggy Pop,
Khruangbin,
The Neon Judgement,
Country Teasers,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.